You can't take off the cheap black sunglasses.

Happy wordage yesterday--over 1300. Well, maybe not so happy, as many of them involved blood, pain, vomiting, and catheders, but I'm proud of them anyway. I seem to have moved past my mid-book crisis with Dreams, thankfully, and have recovered my momentum. I wrote an outline, and it actually has an ending. To the unwary reader, it might even look like a plot. (In fact the events of the book really just revolve around the capricious whims of Monkey gods.)

Probability of me bludgeoning a student with a date-due stamp today: High

Probability of me going to Syntax tonight: Low (I must take my Boy to the airport. :( )

And remember, you can't take off the cheap black sunglasses.